


It Must Be Christmas Time

by ephemera (incognitajones)



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Relationships, Cabin Fic, Christmas, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Oh no there's only one bed, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21892612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incognitajones/pseuds/ephemera
Summary: Dreading the first Christmas since her father’s death, Jyn accepts Leia’s invitation on a group ski trip just to avoid being alone. When the number of guests unexpectedly goes up, Jyn's not pleased when she and Cassian (who’ve never gotten along) are forced to share a room. But they end up bonding over stupid games, talking late into the night, and becoming surprisingly close.By Christmas Eve, Jyn’s realized that she likes Cassian much more than she wants to admit, but she doesn't know what will happen when the holidays are over.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 74
Kudos: 242





	1. Chapter 1

Jyn walked into the the café and stopped short, almost skidding on the wet floor in her snowy boots. Christmas had arrived with a vengeance; it looked like Santa had thrown up in here. For fuck’s sake, it was only November 1. Couldn’t they even wait until after Remembrance Day?

Apparently a Christmas bomber had flown over the place, dumping layers of garland, glittery decorations, blinking lights, and a 6 foot tall artificial tree in the corner by the hostess stand. But the worst of it was the music: some pop diva singing a breathy, sugary-sweet arrangement of a gimmicky novelty tune that didn’t deserve a remake. She grimaced, wishing for earplugs.

Leia waved to her from a booth along the window and Jyn hurried over. Even here, the end of the booth was festooned with a clump of jungle bells, and the window was frosted over with painted snowflakes. At least those were generic. Jyn grumpily plunked herself down on the bench seat and tried not to look at anything but Leia's face.

“Sorry.” Leia sounded guilty, even though this wasn’t her fault. “I swear, I was in here two days ago and the place was totally normal.”

Jyn shrugged, unfolding her menu to shield herself from the Christmas crap all around. “It’s fine, Leia. Even you can’t change the calendar.”

She thought she did a pretty convincing job of pretending to be fine during lunch: she complained about her students just as much as usual, and finished off her usual cheeseburger. But Leia hadn’t been fooled, apparently, because after their usual battle for the cheque (which Jyn won this time), she pinned Jyn with a a serious look from her deep brown eyes. 

“Be honest, Jyn. You don’t have to bullshit me. I haven’t seen you since the start of term, and you look awful. How are you, really?”

That was Leia all over—tactful until it suited her, and then blunt as a hammer. It was all Jyn could do not to snarl at her, or burst into tears, but her friend didn’t deserve either of those reactions. So she just sighed, looked down at the sticky table, and tried to think of something to say that would both be true, and get Leia off her back. 

“I thought I was starting to get over it, Leia.” She tapped the salt shaker with one finger, nudging it into line with the pepper. “I still think about him every day, but I could finally do that without crying. There’ve been whole weeks I didn’t cry at all. And now… every time I see a Christmas tree, or hear one of those stupid songs, I just fucking lose it.”

Leia didn’t say anything. She just slid her perfectly manicured hands across the table and wrapped them around Jyn’s, with their ragged, chewed-off nails.

“I’ll be okay, though.” Jyn took a deep breath and tried to smile. “Sorry, I know everyone’s busy and stressed at this time of year. I didn’t mean to unload on you.”

“Don’t apologize, Jyn. Of course you still miss your dad. It’s been less than six months… and I know how he was about Christmas. He always went completely over the top, didn’t he? I remember coming over to your place once and thinking it looked like a Hallmark store.” Jyn snuffled out a teary laugh, and Leia squeezed her cold hands and smiled. “You never told me why he was so nuts about the holidays.”

“It started when I was a kid, after my mom died. He was depressed for a long time and I think he felt guilty about it. He overcompensated in a lot of ways, trying to be the perfect dad. You should’ve seen how many presents he bought me each year… I bet if I’d asked for a pony, he seriously would’ve done it.” She pulled her hands out of Leia’s and twisted her paper napkin into a tight coil. “Anyway, it was always a bit much, but he meant well. It's just, with him gone, I can’t stand any of it. I feel like I never want to have another Christmas again.” 

“You shouldn’t be all alone.” Leia sat back in the booth and folded her arms, regarding Jyn like a complicated file. “Why don’t you come up to the cabin? Han and Luke and I are headed up on the 23rd to go skiing. I can promise you there’ll be absolutely no holiday spirit. And no need to socialize unless you want to. We’ll be out on the slopes all day, you can curl up in front of the fire and read.”

Jyn shredded the twisted napkin into bits of confetti. “Don’t you usually spend Christmas with your parents?” 

“Yeah, but it’s their fiftieth anniversary this year and my dad finally convinced my mom to go on that cruise around the Mediterranean they’ve always wanted to do. So they’ll be on a boat getting sunburnt in Greece.”

“I won’t be good company. And I don’t want to spoil your Christmas.”

Leia shrugged. “We weren’t going to be doing much for it anyway. I certainly wasn’t planning on decorating a tree or cooking a big Christmas dinner at the cabin. Han and I can exchange our gifts after the trip, it’s not a big deal. Come on, you’d be doing me a favour,” she cajoled. “I would’ve asked you sooner except that you don’t ski. If you don’t come along, it’ll just be me and three guys. I’ll die of testosterone poisoning.”

“Three? Han, Luke, and who?”

“Cassian.” Leia sounded guileless, but she blinked and looked down for a second.

Jyn snorted. “Now I get it. That’s the real reason you didn’t ask me earlier. You know Andor hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, Jyn, and I don’t get what you have against him either. Honestly, I’ve never understood why the two of you don’t get along like a house on fire.”

Jyn didn’t completely understand it either; but they hadn’t met under the best circumstances and their first impressions had not been good. And then later, once she knew Cassian a little better, she’d never been able to get over the realization that he was just her type. Under any other circumstances, she’d have wanted to climb him like a tree.

Leia sighed. “It’s a big place, you won’t have any trouble avoiding each other. There are three bedrooms—I’ll make Luke share with Cassian, and you can have one all to yourself.”

“He skis? I thought he was from California,” Jyn said blankly.

“They have mountains in California,” Leia said dryly. “That’s where Luke learned, too.” She tipped her chin down and gave Jyn her best plaintive gaze, which was very good. “Please?”

Jyn weighed the options. She’d be stuck in a cabin with four other people, only one of whom she knew well and another she cordially detested. But if she didn’t go, she’d be spending the week alone in her chilly, dark apartment, or trying to ignore the holiday nonsense if she went out. At least if she went to the cabin it would be a change of scenery. She could bring a few books she’d been meaning to read, maybe even get a head start on her grading.

“Fine, I’ll come.” Jyn held up two fingers. “On two conditions: one, you have to defend me on the manslaughter charge if I end up killing Cassian, and two, I absolutely, positively refuse to ski. Me and steep slopes do not mix.” 

“I promise.” Leia held up her right hand as though she were taking an oath. “Pinkie swear, if you want.”

“I’m trusting you,” Jyn warned. She was wary of Leia’s grand plans after one too many had crashed down around their ears.

“Don’t worry!” Leia said cheerfully. “It’ll be great.”

Jyn stamped her frozen feet and watched the smoke of her breath trail upward. It was early, still dark, and falling snow gleamed in the bright coronas of the streetlights. After a deceptively warm first half of December (thanks, global warming), winter had arrived with a vengeance. The temperature had dropped into the frigid zone and more snow had fallen every day. Cassian would be happy, no doubt. Wasn't fresh snow supposed to be a downhill skier’s dream?

She could have waited inside for Cassian instead of shivering out here on the stoop, but she didn’t want to piss him off by making him wait while she lugged her bag downstairs from her apartment. Beggars, choosers, etc, and since she didn’t have a car, Jyn had to rely on the tolerance of those who did.

Part of her wondered if Leia had arranged this to prove her assertion that the two of them could get along just fine. Sticking them together in a small metal box for a couple of hours seemed like a good way to find out.

She rubbed her gloved hands together and stamped her feet again, ready to give up and go back inside. Just then a little grey hatchback slowly negotiated the ruts around the corner. That must be his, it had a pair of skis strapped to the roof.

The car stuttered to a stop in the soft snow already piling at the curb, and she recognized Cassian through the frost on the windshield—his goofy toque with the multicoloured bobble on top was distinctive. Surprisingly, he got out and opened the hatch for her. “Thanks,” Jyn muttered as she threw her bag in beside his. 

“No skis?” he asked. 

She laughed. “Not my thing. I prefer to stay on level ground.”

The interior of the car was blessedly warm already, and—thank god—it had heated front seats. It also smelled like coffee. Cassian pointed at two familiar red paper cups in the centre console. “I stopped at Tim’s already,” he said. “Hope that’s okay. The forecast doesn’t look great and I want to be sure we get a head start.”

“That’s fine,” Jyn said. “Which one is yours?”

“I didn’t know how you like your coffee, so one’s black, one has cream and sugar. Take whichever you want.”

Dammit. If Cassian was always this considerate, Jyn was going to have to admit that Leia was right and they could have gotten along all this time. She grabbed the black coffee and vowed to say as little as possible for the next four hours. 

It was easy at first; she was still sleepy, despite the coffee, and the white lines of snow crawling over the dark windshield were hypnotic. But eventually the sky brightened slightly, turning the clouds into a low dome of pewter. They were well outside of the city now and thanks to the wind, the roads were still clear of snow, but empty—not a lot of people headed this way for the holiday yet. 

“Can you check the forecast again?” Cassian asked, squinting at the white lines of snow scrolling over the road ahead. He was a good driver, Jyn gave him that, calm and steady even in this.

She picked up her phone and tapped on the weather app. Shit, those were some ominous dark blue blotches approaching on the radar screen. “Not good. It looks like that blizzard is rolling in a lot faster than they said it would. We’ll be at Leia’s by then, won’t we?”

“Let’s hope so.” His hands flexed on the steering wheel.

“If you think we should turn around, let me know.”

Cassian shrugged. “I’d rather get up there as quickly as possible, especially if there’s more snow coming.” He glanced over at her. “Do you want to put on some music? I could use some help staying awake.”

Well, that would be easier than trying to hold a conversation for the next few hours. 

The radio was out—it would be nothing but Christmas tunes. Jyn considered connecting her own phone to the car, but she was curious about Cassian’s musical tastes. She held up his phone and got him to unlock it so she could open his Spotify account and scroll through his favourites. They were an interesting mix: some Latin artists she didn’t know, unsurprisingly, a little classic rock, and a lot of the folkier end of indie music, which did surprise her. She wouldn’t’ve pegged Cassian as a Jason Isbell fan. 

She put on a playlist that looked like mostly female pop acts, which was about the only place their tastes overlapped. Chrissy Hynde’s husky voice came through the speakers singing “Brass in Pocket.” Jyn bobbed her head and Cassian hummed along, because no-one who had a soul could hear this song and not do the same. He had a pleasantly raspy, low voice, but then she’d always liked the sound of his voice.

The next song was Brandi Carlile. “Oh hey, I went to her show this summer.” It had been a great concert; Jyn remembered feeling happy and optimistic for the first time in months. It was also the week before her dad had gone into hospice. 

“I think I saw you there, actually.” Cassian cleared his throat and Jyn thought he might be a little embarrassed, though it was hard to tell with the heat in the car high enough now to make her feel flushed too. “But you looked like you were having a good time and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

In other words, he probably hadn’t said hello because he wasn’t sure if she’d respond. Jyn’s mood plummeted. She’d never gotten along with Cassian that well, but she had to admit that a lot of it was jealousy—or envy, which was the one when you wanted what they had?—because he’d been awarded the grant she wanted at the start of her time at the university. It wasn’t his fault, especially given the assholes who were on the committee (there was no way they were going to give it to a brand new hire, especially a woman) but it had rankled enough that she’d never bothered to conceal her irritation when she met him.

She looked out the window, and the black and white ranks of dark pine trees layered with snow blurred into fuzzy stripes as she blinked back tears. Jyn didn’t want to be soft, or nice—both qualities were far overrated as far as she was concerned, mostly valued because they made people easy to take advantage of. But since her dad died, there was no denying that she sometimes felt regret. If she wasn’t as abrasive, maybe she’d have more friends. Maybe she wouldn’t be so alone in the world now that her dad was gone. 

After all, Cassian wasn’t that bad. If she’d been slightly less of a bitch, maybe they could have gotten along the past few years instead of glaring at each other when forced to interact. 

“Hey.” Cassian’s voice was kind, and she didn’t dare look over in case he saw her face. “There’s a rest stop coming up, do you want to take a break?”

“Sure,” she croaked. 

The lane up to the cabin had been plowed sometime in the last day, fortunately, or Cassian’s little hatchback would never have made it through. The others had arrived last night; Leia’s Cherokee was in the drive, its roof dusted with snow. The Subaru parked behind it must be Luke’s, although she thought Leia had said they were all coming together. Cassian navigated carefully up the drive and parked in the last cleared space. 

They gathered their bags and stamped the snow from their boots on their way up the stairs. Jyn looked around curiously. The Organas' cabin was a bit more rustic than she'd expected, given Leia’s quite posh family. It wasn’t a winter home or a ski lodge, just a cabin: a lovely one, but definitely someone’s DIY project rather than professionally designed. Just as they reached the porch, Leia flung the door open. “Come in, come in, get warm!” 

The two of them shuffled inside, dropping luggage and bags in the hall. Leia seemed a little flustered, and Jyn wondered why. Maybe she and Han had already gotten into a fight on the way here—or maybe they’d just started drinking early. 

“So, there’s been a bit of a last-minute hiccup…” Leia said, determinedly cheerful. 

“You mean a shitshow,” Han called from the living room. 

Leia rolled her eyes. “Just take your boots off, come inside, and we’ll fill you in.”

Jyn looked at Cassian, who shrugged. Apparently he didn’t know what was going on either. She slipped off her Sorels and went around the corner and down the hall into a large living space. The view from the huge window overlooking the valley was breathtaking, even though there were borders of frost on the glass.

Then she noticed the other two people in the room. Luke stood there, looking a little abashed, and beside him was—Bodhi? Jyn blinked, and then leaped forward to hug him within an inch of his life. “You said you were going to spend Christmas with your new boyfriend! What are you doing—”

“Yeah, about that. Meet Luke, he’s the new boyfriend.” He smiled awkwardly and she could see the flushed undertones on his cheeks. 

“This is my fault, sorry.” Luke stepped up and put his arm around Bodhi’s waist. “I thought there’d be lots of room, but apparently Leia and I didn’t coordinate our last minute invitations…”

“So now there are six people and three bedrooms,” Han put in. “Which means we’re _all_ going to have to share,” he said, with a meaningful look at Cassian.

“Yes, thanks, I can do simple math.” Cassian rolled his eyes. 

“Anyway,” Bodhi said quickly, “I’ll share with you, Jyn. It’ll be like old times! Sleepover!”

“Oh.” Jyn blinked, trying to process how the trip she’d been sold on as relaxing and full of solitude had suddenly turned into some kind of farce. She wanted to groan out loud. “Uh, let me just unpack the groceries I brought—there’s some stuff that needs to go in the fridge.”

She looked at Cassian and jerked her chin toward the kitchen, trying to be subtle enough that Bodhi wouldn’t notice. Hopefully he’d be too immersed in canoodling with his new boyfriend. She snagged a few bags of groceries from the mound piled up in the front hall and headed into the kitchen.

The kitchen was as unpretentious as the rest of the cabin. The cupboards were a mishmash of different stained wood, probably salvaged from other renovations, and the fridge had to be at least a decade old. At least there was loads of room in it. Jyn dumped her bags on the counter and started stacking the contents in the fridge. 

No way was she going to make Bodhi share a room with her when he could be staying with Luke. Given the way Bodhi had smiled when Luke touched him, they were still in the fresh new phase of a relationship, when everything was stardust and hormones. 

Cassian followed her in with more bags dangling from his hands and started putting the contents away. Jyn slid closer to him, jabbed him with her elbow, and hissed, “Look, I know this sucks and it’s not what either of us signed up for, but I’m fully prepared to sleep on the floor. Just play along so I don’t have to be the third wheel who separates my best friend from his new squeeze, okay?”

“There’s no need for that.” Cassian looked down at her with an unreadable expression. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Jyn snorted. “That thing is forty years old, nobody’s sleeping on it. And besides, everyone’s going to stay up late and hang out in the living room. I don’t think you want to try and sleep through that.” She put her hand on his arm. “Please? We’d be sharing a bathroom anyway, it’s not that big a difference.”

Just as Cassian opened his mouth, Leia barged into the kitchen with a bottle of rum in one hand. “God, after that drive, I desperately need a drink.” She hesitated, with a sidelong glance at Jyn. “Um, is eggnog acceptable? I can do rum and Cokes instead...”

Jyn shook her head. “Just no mulled wine, please.” Her dad had kept a pot of gløgg simmering on the stove for what seemed like weeks before Christmas. Jyn had never really cared for the taste of red wine and spices, but the scent of it still plunged her into the Jul season.

Leia lifted up on her tiptoes, trying to reach highball glasses from a tall cupboard, and Cassian casually snagged them for her, setting them on the counter. Stupid tall people, it wasn’t fair. He was looking at Jyn a bit strangely, and it occurred to her that maybe Leia hadn’t filled him in on the whole non-Christmas bit. That could be awkward. 

Jyn leaned against the counter and watched as Leia dumped ice, eggnog, and a healthy slug of rum into six glasses. She passed one each to Jyn and Cassian and held up her own expectantly. They clinked glasses and drank to Leia’s cheerful “A votre santé.”

Cassian made a face. “I don’t know how anyone can drink that stuff, it’s like cow snot.” 

“Ewww.” Jyn didn’t need that image in her head, it was all too accurate. At least the amount of rum Leia had poured into her glass cut the cloying, creamy sweetness a little.

“Guys!” Han bellowed from the other room. “Get in here, we need to settle what game we’re playing first.”

No. Jyn had absolutely _not_ signed up for any fucking party games.

She ended up on the same team as Cassian. 

“Why?” Jyn had demanded of Leia in a hissing whisper. 

Han overheard her and explained in a voice loud enough to be heard from the top of the ski lift, “Luke and Leia aren’t allowed on the same team since they can read each other’s minds. It’s freakish and unfair.”

“And Han and Leia can’t be on the same team since all they do is shout at each other,” Luke countered.

“Or suck face,” Bodhi muttered. 

“Okay, fine,” Jyn grumbled. She certainly didn’t want to have to put up with either of those outcomes. Cassian shot her an apologetic grin. 

So it was Leia, Cassian, and Jyn versus Han, Luke, and Bodhi. Jyn instantly vetoed charades but that only meant she was stuck with Pictionary instead, which was just as bad since she couldn’t draw to save her life. And of course, she was first up.

She groaned when she saw the word. This was going to suck. Swearing under her breath, she stabbed at the paper, making hasty dots.

“Freckles?” Leia guessed, and Jyn shook her head. She connected the dots with swift lines, hopping from foot to foot and grimacing with frustration. Why were these dumb games so popular?

“Constellation,” Cassian said, surprisingly confident.

Jyn whirled around to point at him. “Yes! That’s it.” With a sudden burst of satisfaction, she jumped over the coffee table and high-fived him. “Wooo! Suck it, boys.”

“I’m a boy,” Cassian protested.

“Don’t worry, Cassian, tonight you’re an honorary girl.” Leia patted his knee.

Jyn would’ve called it a fluke. Surely there was no way she and Cassian were on the same wavelength. But as the night went on, they continued to stun everyone (including themselves) by how well they meshed. It didn’t seem to matter whether it was Pictionary, Heads Up, or Twenty Questions, they cleaned up. 

Bodhi and Luke did well, too, but their team was dragged down by Han’s habit of blurting out the most ridiculous possible answers—even though he was right around thirty percent of the time, the other seventy killed their chances. 

When “the Boys” finally conceded, Leia did a victory dance on the coffee table, and Jyn was astonished to discover that it was already past midnight. After the early start to her day, she’d figured she’d be in bed by nine, either because she was exhausted or to avoid socializing. Instead, tonight had been surprisingly fun, even if it did involve games. To be fair, Jy was generally okay with competition as long as she was winning.

Then Han scooped Leia up from the coffee table and carried her off, laughing, Bodhi and Luke wrapped their arms around each other and all four stumbled off cheerfully to their rooms. Jyn and Cassian were left staring at each other across the coffee table. She cleared her throat, prepared to start arguing her case again before it got awkward.

“Rock, paper, scissors for first in the bathroom?” he offered. 

Cassian won, and Jyn took advantage of the time to get into her pyjamas. Thankfully, in the winter she slept in flannel pants and a long-sleeved thermal top, which were about the least revealing ensemble possible. She was gathering a blanket and a pillow in her arms to make herself a little nest on the floor when Cassian came out of the bathroom with a wave of fresh mint-scented breath and said, “Oh, come on. Just get in bed, the floor’ll be fucking freezing.”

Jyn giggled, because she was drunk and hearing Cassian swear was somehow hilarious. She’d never heard him curse before. 

And in the end, it was comfortably simple and straightforward. She put it down to the fact that they were still in a good mood, riding the competitive high of mopping the floor with everyone else. Plus, they’d both had enough eggnog, spiked hot chocolate, and whiskey from Han’s stash of Red Spot to make them mellow and sleepy. 

Cassian was right: the floor was freezing, but by the time Jyn got in to the bed after brushing her teeth, it was already toasty warm from his body heat. And it was a queen, so it was big enough that there was at least a foot of space between them. She yawned out “Go, Team Girls,” and barely registered Cassian’s soft snort of laughter before she fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Galen Erso had always been lean, but illness had sharpened his cheekbones to blade-like angles and given an unhealthy, waxy yellow tinge to his skin. But he could still walk, at least for short distances, and today he wanted to go outside. So Jyn pushed his wheelchair down the elevator and out into the courtyard of the hospice. 

On a cloudless June morning, this neglected little garden was as pretty as it could be. The weeds were flourishing, the spindly rose bushes were making a valiant attempt to bloom, and someone had filled the planters in the corners with bright yellow flowers Jyn didn’t recognize. 

She manoeuvred her father’s chair beside a bench and sat down next to him. He reached out to take her hand. She looked down at the thin fingers and an ache rose in her throat. They’d said everything there was to say by now; both of them knew what was coming. She couldn't tell if this was a memory or a dream, but she knew that her father had less than a week to live.

“Love you, stardust,” he whispered. 

Jyn drifted slowly up to the surface of sleep. She could hear a faint echo of her dad’s voice in her head, and it seemed as though he had just left the room. Had she been dreaming of him? Her her eyes were wet and her face damp with tears; she must have been crying in her sleep. 

Strangely, she wasn’t left grieving and in pain, like the other times she’d dreamed about him. It was almost as though she’d had a chance to talk to him again; she felt a vague sensation of being wrapped in warmth and comfort. Although maybe that was just from being bundled under cosy layers of blankets. Her head was clear, too. She didn’t feel hungover, and she remembered exactly where she was—and with who. Cassian’s body heat was radiating against her left side, part of the reason she was so warm. 

Shit. Was he awake, too? If her crying had woken him up, Jyn would expire of shame. She turned her head cautiously on the pillow, holding her breath, but Cassian wasn’t facing her. He was curled toward the other side of the bed; all she could see was one shoulder and a tousled mess of hair.

Good. Last night had been surprisingly non-awkward, but she didn’t want to tempt fate further by seeing what Cassian looked like first thing in the morning. (Unfairly handsome, no doubt.) Keeping her movements slow and even, she slid out of bed feet first, barely lifting the covers, and tiptoed to the door. She slunk out, easing it closed behind her, and listened. 

Silence. No-one else was up yet.

It was still early; Jyn’s internal clock had woken her up at her normal pre-class hour. The soft pearl light of a winter dawn shone in through the high peaked window of the living room. She could see almost a foot of fresh snow, soft and fluffy as down feathers, piled on the deck. It looked like a good excuse to stay indoors to her, but no doubt the others would be thrilled to get out on the slopes.

Yawning, she went into the kitchen and rifled through the cupboards, searching for breakfast supplies. Good lord, how many bags of chips had Han brought? They were going to drown in grease. Someone more practical (probably Bodhi or Luke) had brought milk and eggs, and there was an only slightly stale bag of ground coffee as well as some sealed tea bags. Not gourmet quality, but enough caffeine for her to survive on. 

She should’ve stopped to grab a pair of socks—the linoleum was freezing against her bare toes. Hopping from foot to foot, she filled the kettle and set it on the stove.

“Good morning.”

Jyn swallowed a shriek and only jumped about half an inch, managing not to spill any water. She turned around to see Cassian in the doorway. Yeah, his good looks weren’t impaired by rumpled hair, morning stubble and a faded, holey UWO sweatshirt. It crossed her mind for a fleeting moment how nice it would feel to hug him and rest her cheek against the soft fabric, feeling his chest rise and fall… _Whoa. Dial it back, there, Erso_. 

“Morning,” she said. “I’m making coffee. Should we do anything for breakfast, or is everyone going to fend for themselves?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “Depends when the rest of these lazybones wake up. I’ll make some pancake batter, and then they can cook for themselves whenever they want.”

Given that the other four people in the cabin were couples, Jyn didn’t think they’d be in any rush to get out of bed. She just hoped the soundproofing in here was decent. 

The two of them moved around the kitchen with caution, gathering eggs and flour and milk, searching for measuring spoons and coffee mugs, while trying to avoid bumping into each other in the cramped space. Jyn couldn’t see the sugar bowl at first, and then strained to reach it on a high shelf; Cassian reached up and grabbed it for her, brushing her head with his arm. She ducked out of the way, leaning against the counter and hugging herself for warmth while she waited for the kettle to boil. She watched Cassian’s back as he dumped flour into a bowl, added milk, cracked eggs, and whisked them into the mixture.

“I never got a chance to give you my condolences about your father,” he said abruptly, still stirring the batter. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come to the service.”

Jyn inhaled deeply. She hadn’t told Cassian about it. How did he even know...? Oh, of course, Leia. She’d probably sent an email to the entire graduate students’ association.

“I didn’t really expect anyone from school. And you sent a card.” Jyn remembered it; there hadn’t been that many. As well as a donation to the charity her dad had wanted people to support in his name, which she appreciated much more. 

Time to change the subject. “When are you guys taking off for the slopes?” She turned back to the counter and measured spoonfuls of coffee into the old-fashioned percolator—the kind of thing so out-of-date it was hip again.

“As soon as everyone’s up, probably. There’s some good powder out there, it’ll be busy today.” He cleared his throat. “What about you? What have you got planned?”

“Sitting in front of the fire, marking papers,” she answered smugly.

“Don’t be so boring, Jyn!” Bodhi bounded into the kitchen and threw his arms around her from behind in a bear hug. “I’m going to take a lesson and try out the bunny slopes, you should come with me.”

Jyn rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm, and Cassian smiled.

“Come on,” Bodhi coaxed her, tugging at her ponytail. “What else are you going to do—sit around here and read?”

“Pretty much,” Jyn agreed. “Maybe drink some more eggnog, I’m developing a taste for it.”

“That stuff is vile.” He made a face. “Come skiing with me instead. I haven’t seen you in months. Please?”

Bodhi was shamelessly playing for sympathy, even giving her the sad puppy eyes, which he ought to know by now didn’t work on her. But the part about not having seen each other in months was true, and it was making her feel guilty.

“How much does it cost?” Jyn asked, reluctantly. She might not be spending much money this Christmas, but she was still a not-quite-starving grad student with loans piling up. “Don’t forget, I’d have to rent all the equipment. And I don’t have the right kind of outerwear.” 

“They’ll give you a discount if you say you’re thinking about buying a full season pass,” Cassian said. “And I’m sure Leia and her mom have some old gear you could borrow.”

That was actually a good idea. 

“Fine, I’ll come,” Jyn sighed. “Just for the morning, though. I’m not spending all day trying to stand up on skis.”

“I promise, it’ll be fun.” Bodhi hugged her again. He looked back and forth between her and Cassian and raised a suggestive eyebrow. “Soooo, how’d you sleep?”

“Just fine, thanks,” Jyn cut him off. She didn’t feel like discussing their sleeping arrangements, so she used Bodhi’s weakness for breakfast carbs to distract him. “Cassian’s making pancakes, want some?” 

Another sliver of pain shot through her right ankle. Jyn gritted her teeth and hung on to Bodhi’s neck with her arm, trying to hop along on one foot as best she could. “Stop apologizing, Bodhi. It’s just a sprain, not a broken leg or anything.” 

“I know, but you wouldn't have come skiing if I hadn’t pestered you...” Bodhi kept up his stream of self-recrimination as they inched down the slippery path to the stop for the shuttle that would take them back to the cabin. 

“I made up my own mind, Bodhi, you didn’t talk me into anything. This is on me. I have no idea why I thought I could do it,” she muttered. 

“Jyn? Bodhi? What’s wrong?” Cassian was watching them from the path where it forked off toward the ski lift, his skis and poles balanced gracefully on one shoulder. He looked perfectly at ease, not like Jyn with her too-big ski suit and her stupid, clumsy feet. Of course if someone had to witness her indignity, it would be him. 

Jyn looked back at the icy path in front of her and breathed in deep, trying to stay calm. “It’s no big deal,” she said dismissively. “I twisted my ankle, that’s all.”

“She took a pretty bad tumble, and the lodge medic said it’s sprained,” Bodhi put in. “She’s supposed to stay off it—”

“Yes, Bodhi, I know,” Jyn snapped. “And as soon as we can get back to the cabin, believe me, I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“Did they not lend you any crutches?” Cassian demanded. 

“They were all out of them at the moment. Lots of injured newbies, apparently.” Somehow, the knowledge she wasn’t the only inexperienced idiot on the hill today didn’t make Jyn feel any better. 

“I’ll help,” Cassian said. “Just give me a minute to drop my stuff off, so Han can bring it back for me.” He clomped away in his stiff ski boots. 

“Come on.” Jyn hopped forward, pulling at Bodhi. “I don’t want to wait.” 

“That keen to avoid him, are you?” Bodhi’s voice took on a teasing lilt. “You told me he wasn't a bad roommate.”

“He’s not,” she said shortly. “I just don’t want him to leave before he’s ready. At least I know you’re done skiing for the day.”

“Maybe forever,” Bodhi said gloomily. 

“Oh, don’t be such a drama llama.” Jyn elbowed Bodhi as hard as she could from only an inch away. “You were way better than me. All you need are a few private lessons from Luke and you’ll be zipping down the slopes.”

Her good foot slid on a patch of ice and she grabbed at Bodhi, sending him off-balance too. He wobbled but managed to keep them both upright. Jyn let out a whimper of pain as her right foot hit the ground with too much weight on it. Shit, that hurt, and they still were only halfway to the shuttle stop.

“Hey there, let me help.” Cassian was suddenly there, propping her up and supporting her on the other side.

Jyn was in enough pain that she was willing to pretend this wasn’t the most embarrassing thing she’d had to do in years. She closed her eyes and hobbled along, clinging to both of them for dear life and trusting that they wouldn’t let her fall.

Bodhi spent the rest of the afternoon fretting about her ankle and telling Jyn she had to go see a doctor as soon as she was back in the city. She knew he meant well, but it made her anxious. 

Cassian’s matter-of-fact attitude was more reassuring. “I’ve had a couple of sprains myself,” he said. “You’re not a real skier until you’ve bent your ankle in a direction it’s not supposed to go.”

“I’m not a real skier, and I never will be,” Jyn retorted. “There’s no way I’m ever going downhill on a pair of skis again. I’ll stick to flat land from now on.”

“You ski cross-country?” he asked. 

“I used to, when I was a kid.” Jyn remembered crisp winter mornings with her dad, gliding along with the soft hush of snow under their skis, and the hot chocolate he’d make her afterward while she complained about how tired she was. She blinked and looked away. Shifting on the couch, she reached for the next paper to mark and bit her lip as her ankle twinged with pain. 

Cassian sat down on the coffee table facing her and patted her shin. “Can I take a look? I’m no expert, but like I said, I’ve had a few sprains.”

“Fine.” 

He lifted her foot into his lap and pushed the cuff of her leggings up past the Tensor bandage the first-aid person at the ski lodge had put on. He unravelled it carefully, and Jyn suddenly felt very self-conscious about the fact she hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. 

Fuck it, it was winter. What did she care if Cassian noticed her furry legs anyway?

He lifted her heel with one warm hand and curled the other around her ankle, gently squeezing and prodding. “Ow,” Jyn hissed, her foot jerking in his grip. 

“Sorry,” Cassian said. He set her foot carefully back on the table. “It’s not too bad. I think you’ll feel better in a couple of days. But you should definitely ice it for now, that will help. And keep it elevated.” He got up to grab a pillow. 

Between him and Bodhi, Jyn was soon enthroned in an armchair, her foot propped up the coffee table and cushioned on pillows, with a plastic bag full of ice molded around her ankle. Anytime she needed something—a drink, a snack, her laptop—one of them rushed to fetch it. She wasn’t a fan of enforced inactivity, but she could get used to this.

After dinner, Leia cajoled everyone into sitting around the stone fire pit out back. “It’s a beautiful night, and it’s not even that cold.” Jyn sat on the stairs of the deck, watching Han chop wood while Bodhi and Luke built a small but bright fire and Leia and Cassian dragged Muskoka chairs into a rough circle around it.

Bodhi helped her shuffle through the snow to the fire. Cassian brought a tree stump over for her to prop her injured ankle on. Leia and Luke fussed over her, making sure the woodsmoke wasn’t blowing in her direction. All of it was sweet, and not nearly as irritating as it should have been. Even Han didn’t mock her ruthlessly, as she’d expected; he just told stories of all the far more gruesome snowboarding injuries he’d seen. 

“It’s too bad about the party tonight,” Leia said. “I’d like to go, at least for a little while, but I’m not leaving you here all alone.”

“What party?” Jyn asked. 

“Our neighbours down the hill always have an open house on Christmas Eve,” Luke said. “We ran into them at the lodge and they invited all of us.”

“Don’t worry about me. You should go,” Jyn said. She wouldn’t mind at all; everyone doting over her had been pleasant for a while, but the limit of her introvert’s tolerance for socializing was quickly approaching. 

“If you’re sure,” Han said. “I wouldn’t mind a chance to get into that guy’s whisky cabinet.” 

“Han!” Leia smacked him on the shoulder. 

“I’m good, really,” Jyn insisted. It took a prolonged discussion, but she managed to persuade Leia and Bodhi that she really did mean it, and that she’d be fine without them. The tipping point, though, was when Cassian said he’d stay behind too, ignoring her meaningful grimaces.

The other four trudged off to take a shortcut through the woods. “Goodbye!” Leia called over her shoulder. “We won’t be late.” 

Jyn sighed, relieved. But Cassian was still there. 

“You don’t have to babysit me,” she said. “Seriously. Go to the party.”

“Why? I don’t know the neighbours, and I’m not interested in tagging along as a fifth wheel.” He shrugged. 

She looked at him suspiciously, wondering if Leia had instructed him to keep an eye on her. 

“Honestly, I’d rather stay,” he said, leaning forward and poking at the fire. A cloud of sparks like fireflies rose into the night. “You’re good company.”

Jyn had to purse her mouth into a weird shape to keep from smiling too broadly. Somehow she liked hearing that from Cassian; it felt like a real compliment, maybe because he was no more likely to flatter people than she was.

“You’re shivering,” he noted. “Do you want to go in?” 

She shook her head. “In a minute.” Now that the others had left, she wanted to enjoy the deep silence of a winter night and the crackling fire a little while longer. 

“Here.” He got up and plucked a blanket from the chair Bodhi had been sitting in, draping it over her and tucking it behind her shoulders to ensure it stayed put. “That should help.” He sat down in the chair next to hers and stared into the fire. She looked at him sideways, watching the reflected flames shine in his dark eyes. 

“I’m sorry if I was a bitch to you,” she blurted. 

His head rocked backward, startled, and he looked at her. “What?”

“I was really rude and short with you when we first met. I was pissed off about something that wasn’t your fault, and I took it out on you.”

“Do you mean the grant?” He frowned. “That was justified. I mean, it was a toss-up, and I’d have been upset if it went the other way, too. Maybe you weren’t the warmest, but I thought that was just how you are.”

“Well, it is,” she said. “You may have gathered that I’m not exactly sweetness and light. But I’m not usually that nasty, either.” 

“You weren’t nasty,” Cassian protested. 

Jyn laughed suddenly, amused at the two of them arguing over whether her behaviour qualified as rude. “I think you just have a low threshold for civility.”

“Maybe.” He grinned at her, his smile flashing bright in the firelight. “You’ve met Kay.”

She snickered again at the reminder that his best friend was a notoriously cranky misanthrope. She smiled back at him; their gazes held for a long moment that felt significant, charged. Her face was hot, and not just from the fire. She blinked and looked away. 

“Look at the stars,” Cassian said softly. “They’re amazing.”

Grateful for the change in subject, Jyn tipped her head back against the back of her chair and gazed up. Cassian was right: this far away from the city, there was so much less light pollution that the sky was thick with stars. She could see the Milky Way like a veil of luminous cloud, and pick out constellations that she remembered her mother teaching her the names of when she was little. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m getting cold,” Cassian said. “Time for some hot chocolate, I think. Do you want help going up the steps?”

Jyn didn’t, exactly; or at least, she felt a confusing mix of elation and embarrassment at the thought of hanging on to Cassian. But it would take her twice as long to hobble through the snow and up the stairs if she insisted on doing it on her own. Plus, her ankle had actually started to throb again.

She nodded, and Cassian held out one mittened hand. She took it and he pulled her up with a slightly over-forceful tug that meant she had to grab his shoulders to keep from knocking him over. Her face was almost buried in his scarf, but she barely had time to stiffen and jerk away before he gracefully eased himself around to her bad side, looping her arm around his waist.

They were both wearing parkas and scarves, mitts and toques; their faces were the only exposed skin from head to toe. There was absolutely no reason for Jyn to be so burningly conscious of his body moving beside hers as they slogged through the snow.

As soon as they were inside the warmth of the cabin, she pulled away, balancing on her good foot to shed her boots. A sharp pain stung her scalp and her head jerked to the side. “Ow!” 

“Shit, hang on. Your hair’s caught in my coat.” Cassian dropped his mitts and worked carefully at the strands of her long hair snarled in his zipper. “Just hold still for a second…”

Jyn couldn’t have moved if she tried. Her head was buried in Cassian’s scarf, tilted close to his neck, and she could smell him: warm and earthy, with a hint of woodsmoke from his hair, or maybe hers. She felt a little dizzy. 

“I think I got it.” His gentle hands released their grip slowly. Jyn wobbled, unsteady on her one good foot, and Cassian grabbed her elbow to hold her up. When she raised her chin warily, nothing pulled at her hair again, but his head was bent down close to hers, closer than she thought, and his mouth was inches away. 

She swallowed and pulled away. “Hot chocolate, you said?” Her voice was huskier than she’d like.

“Right.” He pulled off his toque and rubbed the back of his head, making his hair stand up in an endearingly silly way. “Coming right up.” 

Another awkward moment landed once they were perched side by side on the couch, cradling mugs of hot chocolate. Jyn bulldozed her way through it by instigating a debate over what to watch on TV. She vetoed basketball, Cassian ruled out hockey; they eventually settled on an old teen comedy that Jyn had vague memories of seeing when she was in high school. It was utterly predictable and somewhat funny. 

Jy drained her mug of hot chocolate, licking the last powdery dregs from the rim, and leaned forward to set it down on the coffee table. 

“Put your foot up,” Cassian said gruffly. “Remember, you’re supposed to be elevating it.”

She flopped around on the couch until she’d managed to drape both of her legs over one of its arms, and her head was resting against Cassian’s shoulder. He reached behind them for the multicoloured crochet blanket hanging on the back of the couch and tugged it down to cover her. 

The fire in the fireplace had died down to glowing scarlet and ruby coals that she stared at through half-closed eyes; they were more interesting than the movie on TV. The blanket was warm, and Cassian’s shoulder was comfortable. She felt snug, and safe, and cared for. She didn’t know whether he actually liked her, but she hoped so... or maybe he was just this kind to everyone. 

“Jyn? Do you want to go to bed?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, are you tired? I can help you to the room.”

She rolled over sleepily and found herself sprawled across him, half-pinning him in place. “'M good right here,” she mumbled, curling her hands into the blanket to keep herself from clinging to Cassian’s sweatshirt.

“I know,” he whispered, and she felt a light touch brush the back of her head. “But it won’t be comfortable in the middle of the night.”

Jyn grumbled something unintelligible, she wasn’t even sure what, and dropped her head to Cassian's chest, shutting her eyes. He held her close and stroked her back. 

She wasn’t sure what shifted between them, but something did. Suddenly she was overwhelmed by the closeness of Cassian, how gentle his hands were, how good he smelled, how strong his body felt underneath her. The anticipation was bigger than opening every Christmas gift Jyn had ever received at once. She felt him take a deep breath, and then he ran his hand up her back to weave into her hair. With her eyes still closed, she raised her head and met his lips with hers.

He tasted as rich and sweet as sugar cookies, as spiked hot chocolate. She kissed Cassian over and over, her lips wandering from his mouth to his jaw and ear and temple, then back down as his hands tightened at her waist. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that… ” he admitted in a barely audible whisper. She could feel his smile broad against her cheek.

“Me too,” she sighed in relief, then laughed a little as Cassian's beard tickled her upper lip. He rubbed his bristly chin against her face, laughing at her squawk of dismay. She squirmed backward, away from the ticklish sensation, but misjudged where the edge of the couch was and almost fell—Cassian grabbed at her, she clutched his arms, and somehow he kept her from going right over onto the floor. 

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. Jyn took it and he stood up, pulling her to her feet. She clung to Cassian as they shuffled down the hall, stumbling toward their bedroom with him guiding her in a slightly clumsy dance. Despite her injured ankle, Jyn felt as though she were barely touching the ground. Although she had every intention of kissing him much more once they were in bed, exhaustion won out. But she did manage to pull him in next to her, because she refused to let go of his shirt.

Once again, Jyn woke feeling warm and content. She kept her eyes shut and didn’t move, luxuriating in the cocoon of bright happiness around her like a cat in sunshine. She hummed in pleasure and burrowed her forehead against Cassian’s chest, feeling his warmth soak through her whole body until it seemed she’d never be cold again. His arm was firm around her, and his hand at the small of her back was reassuring. With his chin resting on the top of her head, she was surrounded by his breathing, his pulse and heartbeat, his smell… maybe the two of them could hibernate in this bed for the rest of the winter. 

It was like being drunk on champagne, except better because she didn’t have that out-of-control, vaguely nauseated feeling or the ominous hovering cloud of a hangover—she just felt floaty and euphoric. She still had to breathe, though, which was becoming a little difficult with her face pressed against his chest. She shifted in his arms, turning her head, and his grasp loosened instantly. 

“You awake?” Low and gravelly, Cassian’s morning voice was somehow even more attractive than his normal tone. It was almost too much for Jyn. 

Instead of answering such a silly question, she ran her palm up from his chest, along his shoulder and neck, and combed her hand through his soft hair. Her thumb played with the stubble on his cheek, flirted with the corner of his mouth, and she watched it turn upward into a smile. 

His mouth found hers again and his thumb traced tingling arcs over her cheek, her jawline, as they kissed, slow and deep. She wondered how long they could draw this out, tasting and teasing each other. His sweatpants didn’t hide how hard he was against her thigh, and her body ached for his, but it was a slow, gradually rising tide of arousal. Their hands didn’t slip under each other’s clothes; small noises of pleasure escaped into the kiss, but that was all. Neither of them was pushing for more right now. The kiss was an end in itself, with just an edge of lust. 

And that was good. Because this wasn’t the right place, nor was there enough time for everything she wanted to learn. Jyn intended to be very thorough, to gradually discover all the places she could kiss Cassian that would make him shiver and arch into her… like the way he was right now. 

Jyn pulled her mouth away from his neck and smiled at him. Cassian was so close she couldn’t quite look into his soft brown eyes without going cross-eyed herself. “Breakfast?”

“Don’t tempt me,” he groaned, and dotted the tip of her nose with a last kiss.

“Thank you,” Jyn told Leia over coffee and Baileys. “You were right, this was a good idea.”

Jyn had been dreading this morning, Christmas morning, for months. But instead of being alone, miserable, and grieving, as she’d expected to be, she was with friends who knew her and took care of her when she needed it. And one of whom, it seemed, was developing into more. 

"I love it when you admit I'm right." Leia hugged her, too quickly for Jyn to object, just a brief ambush of affection. “And I’m really glad you came.” 

As Leia pulled away, Jyn noticed a bright flash of something else. “Wait a second, what is that?” A delicate silver band set with an opal encircled one of the fingers on Leia’s left hand, where she definitely didn’t normally wear any jewellery. “Are you and Han…?”

Leia laughed, and Han grinned. “We had a bet on how long it would take one of you to notice! My money was on Bodhi, though.”

“What?” Luke sat up from his pre-breakfast coma on the couch. “Did my baby sister get engaged without telling me?” 

Leia rolled her eyes. “You’re three minutes older, you don’t get to call me that. And this _is_ me telling you.” But her cranky tone was belied by the way she ruffled Luke’s hair when he got up to hug her.

“Hey, I ought to thank you,” Han told Jyn seriously. “You did me a favour with the whole anti-Christmas thing. This way I didn’t have to get Her Highness any other presents.”

“Wow.” Jyn shook her head. “Well, congratulations, I guess.”

Cassian did that shoulder-gripping, back-thumping dude hug with Han. “You really are way luckier than you deserve, man.”

Though Han’s grin was as cocky as ever, he sounded sincere when he said, “I know.”

They toasted to Leia and Han’s happiness, and to everyone else, with mimosas before sitting down for breakfast. Cassian slid naturally into the seat next to Jyn’s. She couldn’t help flicking swift glances at him again and again, watching that mouth she’d been kissing only a few minutes ago and wondering how long it would be before she could do it again. 

Cassian dropped his right hand under the table and rested it lightly on her knee. She bumped his leg with hers, and they exchanged secretive, knowing half-smiles. 

“I was thinking,” he said quietly, leaning close to speak into her ear. “Everybody else is staying to ski for a few more days. But you might want to go home early and rest that ankle, or see if you can get in to see a doctor. We could drive back today, if you want to.” 

“I think that sounds like a great idea,” Jyn said solemnly. “If you don’t mind leaving early.” Her hand curled under his thigh and squeezed.

Cassian swallowed. “Not at all.”

They arrived back in the city just as an early winter dusk was falling and the streetlights hummed to life. As Cassian pulled up in front of Jyn’s apartment, it felt eerily similar to the moment they’d left two days earlier. The sidewalks were empty, and there was hardly any traffic; he was able to park right outside her building. 

“Do you think you can make it on your own, if I carry your bag?” He was watching her steadily.

“Yeah.” She took a deep breath, feeling ridiculously shy and wildly, thrillingly happy at the same time. There was no reason to be so nervous, and yet she was. “Do you want to come up for tea, or something?”

“Yes,” Cassian said immediately. “Can I ask you something else first?” 

She nodded. 

“What are you doing New Year’s Eve?” 

Jyn looked at him: his eyes dark under that ridiculous hat, his breath visible in cloudy tufts. She took the loop of his scarf in one hand and tugged on it to pull him closer. “This, I hope,” she said, and kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from [2000 Miles](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=AEyGZlBdkaA) by the Pretenders, which is one of the best (and saddest) Christmas songs ever.


End file.
